


Heat of the Kitchen

by skinsuit



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty, Top Chef - Fandom
Genre: AU, Both Stan and Rick are chefs in this AU, M/M, Oral Sex, Reality E-B-314, Top Chef AU, foodporn?, stanchez
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-05-09 09:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14713196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinsuit/pseuds/skinsuit
Summary: Stan and Rick are 20 years younger in this universe , and are chefs. They first met working the line at  French Bistro in NYC. They were friends, they were lovers, it didn't work out. they parted way.   Twenty years later  they are at the top of their game: Rick is James Beard award winner with style that mixes global street food with molecular gastronomy, Stan is the 'king of upscale comfort food' who's scandal ridden career, hasn't stopped his upward trajectory. Both meet again as contestants on Top chef. Will the romance be re-kindled or will the heat of competition burn up any remaining good will?





	1. Chapter 1

They took their smoke break in the alley behind the restaurant; dank, dark, and smelling like the dumpsters that stood nearby. It was a small chance for some peace before the dinner rush and after the lunch rush. They’d bullshit, gossip, laugh and make small talk. Today was different though, today Rick had finally noticed the secret glances Stan had been giving him when Stan was totally sure Rick wouldn’t see him. The air was tense as they puffed away, then Rick stubbed his cig out against a wall looked Stan directly in the eye and said, 

“So you wanna blow job?”

“Uhhhhh…. wha?”

“C’mon Pines, I know you got the hots for me…. you wanna BJ or not?”

“I was hoping it would be more romantic, ya know?”

Rick rolled his eyes, “You can give me a kiss. Do you want a blow job or not?”

“Sure.” Stan said.  
He leant over and kissed Rick on the lips, almost chastely and Rick smirked and dropped to his knees.

Twenty years later looking nervously at the camera, Stan responded, “Me and Rick were…. friends, we uhhh worked the line together at a French Bistro called Goose Fat.”


	2. Chapter 2

Glass shard beach mid 80s

Stan remembered it like it was yesterday, back seat of their father’s car, it was bright outside, hot and sticky, Stan and Ford where both twelve. Stan was picking his nose and not really thinking about much.   
“Uhh, Dad where are you going?” Ford asked as they drove over the bridge into the New York City.

“You’ll see when we get there,” Dad said gruffly

They went through the tunnel as well. Eventually ending up in Brooklyn outside their great uncle Irving’s deli (PINES DELI EST 1910). They pulled up to the red brick building with the black and white sign, and wide windows Dad ordered them out and drove off.

“What’s this about?” Stan asked as they walked into the deli.

“Beats me,” Ford said with a shrug.

Uncle Irving, huge, grey, hairy, with his thick spectacles and shabby white apron came out from behind the counter. He bent over and gave them a hug but got back up too quickly for Stan to pick his pocket. 

“Stanley, Ford my nephews! Did yer father not tell you?” Uncle Irving said.

“Uhhn..no,” Ford said.

“Oy, that Filbrick, head like an Ox,” Uncle Irving sighed. “You two are workin’ here this summer.”

“What?” Ford asked.

“Yeah, you can earn some pocket money,” Uncle Irving said, throwing both of them oversized white aprons. “Now go to the back and help your cousin Ernie with the dishes.”

“Cool!” Stan rushed back, he liked cousin Ernie who was fifteen, 6’2, and built like a stick insect, but hilarious and always treated them like they were his equals (including sharing smokes with Stan and telling them dirty jokes) Ford followed after reluctantly.

In the dusk after closing time, the boys waited outside for their father to come, they’d both earned ten dollars apiece.

“Ugh,” Ford said, “that was terrible.”

Stan turned to his brother in puzzlement, he was tired and wet from the dish sink, but feeling a sense of triumph and contentment, goggled at Ford. “What’ya mean Fordsy? It was super neato! They even let me use a knife!”

“My feet are sore, I’m wet and I smell like a onion, it was awful,” Ford groused. “And we have to do this all summer ugh.”

“Alright, so aint’ your cup of tea Poindexter... you want me to take that money from ya?” Stan said and made half hearted grab for the ten bucks in Ford’s hand.

 

“No...” Ford replied with a smile, holding the money out of reach and they scuffled playfully until their Dad showed up. 

Thirty odd years later and Stan stood in his chef whites, lined up with the other contestants, he was HERE, Top Chef! The kitchen was bright, light wood and silver metal. This season they were doing New Mexico, so they were in Albuquerque. There were little touches in the decor to show this, south west type patterns and such, but Stan was too dazzled to pay attention. Tom and Padma walked into the kitchen...HE, Stan Pines, was HERE it had taken almost a decade but he’d made it. Tom prompted the chefs, 

“Tell me a little bit about yourself”

And they went down the line Stan wasn’t worried, he was near the back. Stan was sorta paying attention more of less waiting his turn, there were award winners, and executive chefs aplenty. He was planning his intro: Stanley Pines, chef owner of Home Comforts, New York. He could do this… he’d been called the ‘King of comfort food’ by The Times, he’d gotten all sorta awards. Trip advisor and Zagats gave him excellent ratings, he’d done amazing upscale twists on classic Jewish cuisine…  
Then he heard a gravelly voice from the past speaking: 

“Rick Sanchez, James Beard award winner, Chef Owner of Xenophile” 

HE was here?! Rick, after twenty years, he’d be up against RICK (and fourteen others). He knew Rick was a beast in the Kitchen, he’d be sharing a room with him and he remembered how it ended between them twenty years ago, there had been violence and threats.   
Still, when it was Stan’s turn for the intro, he pulled it off no problem after all he’d done spots on local and national tv before. Did he see Rick turn and look at him with that familiar smirk? Did it matter? No, perhaps not. If so why was Stan’s heart racing like it used to?


	3. Chapter 3

“Sacre bleu! We are ruined!” Chef Boucher exclaimed as he wept into his hands. 

Rick rolled his eyes and continued his prep work. Stan had stopped entirely and rushed to Chef’s side.

“What’s wrong?” Stan asked.

“Our landlord he is a fucker!” Chef Boucher cried. “Our lease is up, but he will not renew, that FUCKER said he has someone who made a better offer, for our space. How dare he! We have the reviews, the customers, but we do not have enough money for the cunt!”

Stan felt something deflate inside of him, this has been his second job, after the Pines Deli got new owners. He really liked working here, he liked Chef Boucher, and most of all where would he see Rick? Yeah they were roommates now, but….working the hours they did, it wasn’t like they actually spent much time outside of work.

Stan left Chef to his weeping and went back to doing prep next to Rick.

“Ugh, this guy.” Rick whispered. 

They talked low because chef was of the old school and more then willing to lob a pot at your head if he heard such talk.

“The guy just lost his restaurant, Sanchez, don’t be such a asshole.” Stan whispered back. 

“It’s not like it’s a only French restaurant in the city, he can work somewhere else.” Rick said in low murmur.

“Oh yeah, smart guy, where are we gonna work, when this place closes?” Stan raised his voice a little.

“I got my resume out already to ten other places,” Rick said.

Stan looked confused. “But why?”

“Wait you don’t?” And Rick burst out laughing.

Stan glared. “Should I?”

“Uhh, yeah,” Rick said as if it was obvious.

Stan blushed, put his head down and went back to prep work.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“For you’re first quick fire your key ingredients something that New Mexico is famous for…” Padma said smiling.

The lights at the back of the kitchen went on and there was BIIIIIIIG display of green chili peppers and a well known chef from New Mexico.  
Then came the spiel, they had 20 minutes to make something featuring New Mexico chiles, Stan was surprised to learn that there were more then one, he only knew about Hatch, but there were Pueblo and Rio Grande. He had tried hatch chiles to prepare for this, but not the other two and instantly he had an idea. 

“Time starts… NOW!” Padma said.

Everyone ran towards the display. Stan was careful not to elbow anyone out the way cuz this was on camera, he grabbed an armful of Hatch chiles and headed back to his station. Now he needed a vitamix, pots, pans, crackers, or breadcrumbs or hell bread, celery, parsley, parsnips, carrots…. onions. hatch Chile matzo ball in a charred vegetable broth. He blazed ahead, looking up briefly to answer some questions about what he was making, he glanced out at Rick’s station lots of powders and  
“Hey Sanchez whatcha’ making?” 

“Pueblo chile pearls.” 

“Right, you have fun with that.” 

“Trust me, I am.”

Rick did that whole molecular gastronomy schtick didn’t he, oy, that was over doing in Stan’s opinion. Didn’t matter, had little time, he had to get a nice bowl and plate. The camera panned over his dish. And time was up. Padma and the guest judge went around the room tasting and commenting. When they got to him Stan told them what he’d made. They tried and made some okay comments about how the broth had depth and matzo ball was comforting. But nothing half as good as the comments they made over Rick’s Pubelo Chile’s three ways ways: pearls, dust brittle and something with strawberries and chocolate? Rick always had a bizarre palate and willingness to shove anything in his mouth. Stan smiled quietly as he remembered that he had one been one of things Rick shoved in his mouth.

The judges were talking, Stan wasn’t in the bottom three, that was good. But not in top three, Rick was in fact Rick won, Sanchez now had immunity. Tomorrow they’d find out what they were doing next. But as for now, they were being driven to the place they were staying. It was Spanish style red tile roof with beige walls. And it was amazing, like the kitchen was just top of the line for a home, naturally, pool table, pool, and so much more. Stan found himself a room, there were three beds, two bunks and a regular single bed. Heh, he hadn't had bunk bed since he was kid in Glass Shard Beach with Ford… who no one has seen since he moved to Oregon four years ago.

“I CALL TOP BUNK!” Rick shouted as he bolted into the room and flung his stuff on the bed. 

“You wanna room with me, again Sanchez?” Stan said.

“Look, we’re both h-h-h-here we gotta get long, right Pines?” Rick said.

“Uhhh, yeah it was what, twenty years ago,” Stan chuckled.

Rick nodded. 

 

Another contestant Treshawn came in the room, followed by the cameraman and asked quietly if he could have the third bed. 

“Heh, the more the merrier, am I right, Stan?” Rick said with a wink.

“Yep.” Stan said.

In a few mixtures the camera and Treshawn were both gone. Stan liked Treshawn, he was a thin, black dude, with dreads, kinda quiet that guy but he’d seen the reviews of where he cooked…

That’s when Rick closed the door and the blinds. Rick strode over Stan and got so close Strna could smell his breath it smelled of booze and cigs.

“You’re s-s-till pretty sexy, Pines.” Rick said.

“Whoa, whoa,” Stan backed away. “Aren’t you married? With like a kid?”

“Yeah, but they ain’t here, you are,” Rick grtinned.

Stan smiled. “Yeah true. But we can’t I mean we’ll be national tv.”

“Fuck, national tv.” Rick said. “They can’t watch us always.”

Stan laughed, and tackled Rick pushing him onto the bottom bunk. Rick kissed Stan deeply and BOOM! Stan was back twenty years ago, Rick’s lips, his tongue, his hair, his scent. They kissed for a little while rolling around on the bed like horny teens. Then there was knock at the door. 

“Uhhh hey guys,” it was Treshawn. “They want us all in the living room in like 5.”

Stan and Rick pulled apart, sat up and smirked at each other.

“Right,” Stan called.

Trehawn came into the room. “You dudes sorted out where you're sleeping?”

“Uhh yep,” Rick said.

“Mmmm-Hmmm,” Stan said.

“Cool, Treshawn said, he smiled as well, a bit confused. “Do you guys… know each other?”

 

“We used to work together, long time ago.” Said Rick.

“Oh neat,” Treshawn said. “Well we better get going, ya know smile for the camera.”

Rick and Stan got up and they all went into a living room and the lights of show.


End file.
